Fall For Anything
by ardj18
Summary: If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything. A character study of Quirrell. Please review! One-shot


**A/N: ** I heard this saying, and thought it fit Quirrell's situation perfectly. Just a bit of a character study. Tell me what you think!

**If You Don't Stand for Something, You'll Fall for Anything**

_"I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those who are too weak to seek it."_

**Flashback:**

I walked through the marketplace, excited by the exotic items and foods being sold. My trip around the world had been so exciting so far! I sighed. Time passed so quickly. Here I was I Albania, already half-way through my trip.

Passing by a cart selling "vampire repellents," I laughed. The things Muggles thought of our world! None of those things would repel vampires – and I should know! I was studying to become a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. It was by far my favorite subject, and the dark creatures especially interested me.

I fought my way through the crowd, looking for the entrance to the wizard section I had been told was here in the town somewhere, similar to Diagon Alley, or so I assumed. Eventually I managed to locate the carpet seller's stall, which hid an archway into the part of the marketplace I was looking for. The carpet seller was a very cheery man, who happily pointed me on my way. Once in the wizarding section, I set off again, looking around.

One stand held several old men on stools. They were talking in the local language, but stopped when they saw me. "Hello!" called one, though with a heavy accent that made it rather hard to understand.

"Hello," I replied politely, taking a step closer to them.

"Where are you from?" the man asked curiously, scratching his head which was nearly hidden under his red hat.

He seemed friendly enough, so I responded, albeit a little hesitantly. "London."

"Ah!" he cried merrily. "Sight-seeing! Have you been in Albania long?"

I replied that I had, and was planning on leaving in two days. He inquired where I had seen, and I described the places to him, feeling more comfortable in his presence with every minute. He was truly a very nice man.

"I see you haven't gone to the forest!" he said. "Don't, whatever you do! It's rumored to be full of Dark Magic, and all sorts of terrible creatures. No one who goes in there comes back out the same."

I must have looked interested, because his eyes narrowed. "You aren't a supporter of Dark wizards, now, are you?" I thought about it for a moment. I didn't really know. I had never been a Muggle torturer, but I wasn't really big on their rights either. I had never really thought about what I stood for. Eventually I decided that I wasn't really big on Dark Arts – at least not practiced.

"No. I'm not." The man looked satisfied, and continued talking. After a while, I bid him farewell and continued walking, though I didn't take as much interest in the sights and sounds as I had before. I was very curious about this forest. The more I thought about it, the more interesting it seemed. Eventually I decided I would look into it. Disregarding all the advice the old man had given me, I set out for the huge forest.

At first it seemed quite normal, but a bit farther in I began to hear strange sounds. I tried to follow one of these, stupidly yet extremely curious as to what creatures lurked in this expanse of trees. Soon I discovered that I had wandered too far off the path, and was lost. I cursed my stupidity, and tried unsuccessfully to find my way back. Eventually I gave up and sat down on a fallen tree.

"Who are you?" hissed a quiet voice. I jumped a foot in the air and looked around, but saw no one. "Why are you here?" The voice came again out of the darkness. I cast another glance around, and my eyes fell on a snake lying in the grass, staring at me. I could only assume that it had been it that had spoke, though I was not a Parselmouth.

Plucking up my courage, I decided (again stupidly) to answer. "Quirrel. And who are you?"

The snake was silent for a moment, then it cocked its head to one side and spoke a name that shocked me more than finding a snake talking to me. "I am Lord Voldemort."

My brain seemed fuzzy. I couldn't think straight, shock was clouding my senses. I heard myself saying the first thing that came into my mind. "But you're dead."

The snake gave what sounded like a laugh. I tried again to talk. "You're evil . . . and alive, and . . . why are you _here?_" I wasn't making much sense, even to myself.

"Fool . . ." hissed Voldemort. "There is no evil, and no good." I could feel myself raising an eyebrow against my will. "Yesss, I speak the truth. There is naught but power. And those fools who do not seek it. How else would I be alive and here? Why else is Dumbledore not Minister?" His words, though strange, made sense to me. They pierced my muddled thoughts, and a sort of trance settled over me. Yes, he was right, of course he was. Power . . . not good, not evil . . . power.

"Help me . . ." the snake-Voldemort continued. "Help me and you will have power."

Desire flashed through my mind. In some dim section of my conscious, I was aware that this reaction did not seem at all like me, but as if some force was taking over me. But the desire squashed this reasoning quickly. Power . . . good . . . power . . . evil . . . power . . . power.

And I was falling. Down, down into blackness.

The next thing I knew, I was travelling back to England, with only one intent. To apply for a job at Hogwarts, and steal the Sorcerer's Stone for my new master.

**End Flashback**

_"Since then I have served him faithfully . . ."_


End file.
